


What You See

by istia



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Christmas, M/M, POV John Sheppard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-27
Updated: 2007-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:33:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istia/pseuds/istia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief interval with John and Rodney on Atlantis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You See

"There you are."

John leaned against the end of the lab bench and watched with amusement as Rodney's big, agile hands moved over the keyboards of a pair of laptops sitting side-by-side like conjoined pet rocks.

"Mmmm."

John had always found absorbed concentration fascinating, and no one did absorbed more absorbedly than Rodney. John pulled his eyes away and scratched at an itch on his temple, which dislodged a clump of tinsel that ended up twined around his thumb. He studied the sparkly strands bemusedly before looking back at Rodney's down-tilted head, his receding hairline making pale wings of his forehead that framed his soft brown hair.

John struggled momentarily with temptation, then instead draped the tinsel over the pencil holder to put it safely out of the way.

"Ronon's guarding a bowl of that disgusting looking Canadian mess for you--"

"Oh, it is not disgusting. It's one of the best things about the season! Also, it's English. If you'd just try it for once instead of--"

John lifted his voice to drown Rodney out with practiced ease. "And Elizabeth's wondering why you ignored the memo. You know, the one about how all department heads should set an example for their overworked minions by being seen to actively enjoy the downtime?"

Rodney hunched over a little more, like Winnie the Pooh protecting his honey pot, which stretched his grey T-shirt a fraction tighter across his broad shoulders. The muscles under the soft material rippled as his arms shifted between keyboards in rapid-fire bursts of movement. John bit his lip and snatched up a whiteboard marker, rolling it back and forth on the table between his hands and enjoying its off-kilter clunky sound. Rodney's annoyed little twitch each time it clunked was a bonus and John rolled it faster until Rodney spoke over it.

"Well, obviously, I am on my way, what with Ronon keeping me a bowl of trifle. Anyway, I doubt my minions need any encouragement to make merry; more like the opposite."

"Hmm, I guess that explains the word 'Grinch' floating about. Though Coleman's suggestion you might be Jewish seemed to intrigue a few people."

Rodney snorted without missing a beat of his typing. "Oh, yes, because there are so many Jewish McKays running around the Hebrides!"

"Your family's from the Hebrides?"

"Well, a couple or so generations back. I have some second or third cousins still plying the waters of the Minch in their coggleboats, I believe."

He looked serious, in his usual distracted way. John squinched his eyebrows, then shrugged. _Coggleboats._ Okay.

"Anyway, your mother could be Jewish."

"Meredith is hardly a Jewish name, either."

John entirely lost control of his eyebrows, both of which shot skywards. "Your mom's called Meredith, too?" And here we have Meredith and Meredith, delightful mother and son....

"Her maiden name was Meredith." Rodney looked up at last, exasperated gaze settling like a puff of blue summer air over John. Which totally did not make John shiver, no.

"What is with this wondering if I'm Jewish? Don't you think everybody would know if I were? Or Muslim or Buddhist or, or Zoroastrian or that New Agey stuff or _whatever_?"

And that was so true, John had to smile. Rodney huffed and turned back to his laptops.

"So, you're exactly what you appear to be, huh?"

Rodney hummed his I'm-not-really-listening-but-I-like-you-so-I'll-pretend-I-am sound. John's smile deepened.

"All righty, then, let's see." He ticked off points on his fingers. "You're an agnostic with no spiritual beliefs who relies on hard science to explain everything in the world and who emphatically--let's make that _emphatically_ \--disdains anything remotely resembling faith for faith's sake."

A finger snapped and pointed in his face; John batted it away, resisting the urge to bite. Rodney beamed at him and his voice was equal parts fond and patronizing: "Almost as smart as you are pretty." Rodney dropped his head and mumbled his next words into his laptops so John had to strain to hear. "Anyway, you already had empirical evidence I'm not Jewish."

"Empiri--? Ohhh."

Rodney looked up in mid-eyeroll. "Yes, 'oh'." He tipped his head to the side and gave John a leisurely once-over from foot to head, lingering on his midsection and starting a slow burn in John's gut. Rodney was smirking faintly, the corner of his wide mouth quirked upwards, when his bright eyes finally met John's. "I did stress the almost as smart bit, right?"

"You always do." John stepped close enough to crowd between Rodney and his laptops, forcing a precipitous divorce of the happy threesome and gaining the full intensity of Rodney's focused gaze. "What say we do one more quick proof of the theorem before dutifully setting an example for the minions?"

"Well, but...my trifle."

John licked along the angular jut of Rodney's stubbled jaw, shivering at the rough sensation on his tongue and the heat of Rodney's arms as they encircled his back. He licked a path up to Rodney's ear, circled the tip of his tongue delicately around the outer whorl, and growled, "It'll taste even better with cream, Rodney."

"Oh, hell."

John laughed as Rodney shoved him aside and bent over to shut down his beloved laptops with lightning speed.


End file.
